


Too close for comfort

by miss_needlephobia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is baby call 911, Chubby!America, Domestic Fluff, Dominant!England, Human AU, Lime, M/M, Making Out, Spicy writing style, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 12:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_needlephobia/pseuds/miss_needlephobia
Summary: A tale of two lovers, both thinking they ace the romance thing, making out on a nice February morning just like in any Valentine's day centric movie, except for that they aren't trained semi-good actors, just awkward dorks. If you think moaning "dude" ruins the mood you have to lower your expectations for this one.





	Too close for comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine's day special fanfiction for @hariible's @ask-extra-size-hero blog on tumblr. Can be interpreted as an idependent usuk/ukus oneshot. If you notice any references, just appreciate them, they are probably happy accidents, as I have no idea what am I doing by now. Obviously, I own Hetalia. Kneel.

Alfred stepped out of the shower, nice and clean. He took a deep breath from the damp-heavy air and whispered in a husky voice.

“Refreshing.”

Ah yes, having the hot stifling air fill your lungs is always a delightful experience. He didn’t mind though. He needed to clear his mind and to submerge in his toxically artificial bubblegum scented shampoo he always used too much of. After all, “Today is a special day.”  
In all honesty, this was the thought the kept repeating like a platitudinous catchphrase from a free real estate commercial every morning he was going to spend a good chunk of the day with Arthur. Still, that didn’t make it mean anything less than his honest excitement and endless adoration for the self-contradicting swamp pixie of a boyfriend he had. Alfred was a real renewable energy source of enthusiasm and affection and even he wasn’t big enough to store it all. He liked to share that sweet little sunshine he had in his smile, especially with the kind of people who wore grandpa clothing despite being in their early twenties, had eyebrows better combed than their hair and called inanimate objects slurs from a dialect that probably only existed on Peppa pig. Considerably he didn’t know that much people this description would fit, but he was satisfied with the amount the skies blessed him with.  
He grabbed another towel to dry his otherwise honey blond hair, which seemed darker at the moment, then glanced at his reflection in the mirror and fingerguned the handsome lump of color looking back at him.

The sounds of Arthur humming some hipster ‘80s indie pop song in his living room, the quiet buzzing of the heater, little water drops running down his back and absorbing into the warm towel tied around his waist; they all felt like an idealized picture of life. Imagine flipping through an IKEA catalogue, seeing those rooms furnished by aliens or artificial intelligence, lizard creatures, whatever, those people (or aliens in disguise) living in those environments like it’s okay to have a giant stuffed unicorn head on your wall, and realizing that’s basically your reality. They have their very own ekeskog, and they are probably lizard creatures too like the rest of us, living in this comfortable absurdity. As long as this rabbit hole some blond chick fell into contained a sassy Englishman for the hero of admirable volume, it was the best fever dream to live day by day.

Alfred ruffled his hair: it was dry enough to have that iconic cowlick stand up and finished off his routine by brushing his teeth with Swiss scientist tested whitening technology toothpaste and using some of that deodorant which should apparently bend reality and break the fourth wall. He should be sponsored. He’s got it all, Hollywood smile, Boy Scout dimples and his aura probably looks like an explosion effect in a comic book.

To honor the flag, he put on a pair of stars and stripes boxers and exited the bathroom with his towel loosely thrown over his shoulders, like a cape for the superhuman he was. Arthur was reading newspapers on his sofa, wearing his bunny print pajamas. He spent the night over like many times before, being the child who can’t sleep without his teddy bear. At this point he spent more time in Alfred’s home, this temple to Captain America, than anywhere else. It had its benefits. There was always food, videogames, comfy couches and occasionally even that dork with shiny blue eyes, a vital component his apartment lacked. He wouldn’t admit to anyone, not even to himself but not matter the grumpy nose wrinklings in response to his idiotic puns, he would have felt lonely without Alfred, like a cat who won’t let you pet him but will follow you around, rubbing his head against your legs. So Alfred could easily pretend he had two cats, though only one of them scratched and bit and it wasn’t his massive Maine Coon.

Arthur finally raised his head with the snobbiest expression a man could make, to acknowledge his lover’s presence and honor him with his precious attention.

“Babe, you look even more handsome when I don’t have my glasses on.” Alfred smiled at the blurry blob which seemed to have those darker smears close to its top pulled in a threatening V shape.

“Put on those bloody glasses and face the truth, Jones!” the cream colored blob snorted and stood up with his knees bent. Alfred mimicked this western movie pose and raised his hands to his hips, gesturing guns.

“Make me!”

They kept the staring contests going, Alfred with his bad eyesight, and Arthur, always blinded by his own distorted perspective of reality. He then took a step and a few more, rushing to Alfred and chaining his arms down with a tight grip he used to reach his mouth unbothered. His dry palms on Alfred’s wide, strong back; stroking it like the hard surface was the delicate piece of china and needed protection. He kissed Alfred’s cold lips softy, the way he liked, then roughly, how he himself preferred. His hands slipped under the bulky boy’s armpits, allowing him to move his arms freely, which new freedom he used to give Arthur a spine breaking hug. Their noses touched, Arthur sucked on Alfred’s lower lip, raising one hand and cupping his rosy cheek. His tongue found its entrance to Alfred’s mouth, which definitely resembled the taste of… a human mouth. Wet and soft. The sweetness was just the work of his imagination, a taste he paired with the looks of his curves and the innocence in his eyes.

A plan started to take from in his mind. It wasn’t too difficult, or original for that matter, but his short term goal became decorating his neck with hickeys.  
“Geez Art, ya gonna get me dirty! I just showered!”

“I’ll take that risk, thank you very much.” he said in all seriousness.

Alfred giggled and laid down on the couch, letting Arthur crawl above him. His bony arm was trembling; his sharp elbow almost pierced the beige of his pajamas sleeves. He couldn’t take too much of the push-up style making out but the quality time spent is worth the pain.

His lover was laying on his back, resting his head on a pillow which had little aliens printed on, his knees bent and pulled up to his torso, making his stomach wrinkle, creating round hills and tight valleys. Arthur kept his back humped, he kneeled between Alfred’s thighs, supporting his weight with his arm stuck behind Alfred’s pillow. Eye to eye; vivid, childish blues meeting those tired, melancholic greens. They could see their reflections in each other’s eyes; like portals to another world, a sneak peek into the perspective of the other one. Since not matter what Arthur thought, what lies he told to himself and the world, Alfred fell in love with him at first sight, without knowing anything about what Arthur wants to be perceived as. He saw the same guy, the mysteriously attractive foreign student at the library, sitting surrounded by heavy lexicons as an afternoon sunlight beam illuminated his face; defined cheek bones, sharp chin, blond eyelashes and a subtle cupid’s bow all paired with the smart glance that just gave Alfred the chills. He was perfect then and he continued to be so to this day, because the measurement has never been relative.

Alfred smiled into their kiss and raised his head to get closer, to reduce the gap between their bodies. Arthur was the most attractive person, even with his hideous pajamas and bags under his eyes. He wanted to soak up every sign of affection; Arthur had more exposed nude skin to work with after all, he only had underwear on, and a towel now merely behind his back. The most gentle of men played with his hair, stroked his sides and rubbed his nose against his shoulders, placing little kisses on it in between; he knew he could express himself through physical touch, there was no chance to lie there and it wasn’t hard to tell what Alfred’s love language was, as the boy treated personal space as the tooth fairy or the American dream: as nonexistent. He clearly loved to be touched, and extra ten points to Slytherin for the intimacy happened through Arthur’s shaky hand moves, attempts to show his love that he could never do by words.

How did he fall for him? That wasn’t clear but it must have happened since for the first time in his life, Sir Kirkland his majesty realized that he indeed, had a heart and sometimes it even beat! Especially when he spotted that absolute buffoon pulling a door that has PUSH written all over it with letters so huge they can be seen from the moon, or the same nitwit carefully looking around before stealing a leftover sandwich from another table at the cafeteria. Accidentally calling his professors dude, forgetting to change file names and turning in works titled “Inergalactic yeet”, regularly sprinting through the court after realizing the course he’s taking is already going on, disregarding his absence and so on. It never failed to make Arthur smile, even if he was the type of person who only smiled once every millennium, probably at a funeral of his enemy. So he either killed hundreds and got away with it or started to catch feels for the guy so stupid it didn’t feel real anymore. If only he had been just stupid… A few relationships with magazine cut out boys straight girls and gay dudes would form solidarity over made him realize he wasn’t into attractive men, quite possibly. So the sweet boy’s hamster face and embarrassing attempts at flirting did the trick for him. The jerk dared to be the most adorable human this earth could carry! 

Looking at Alfred’s round, shiny eyes, button nose, his flustered expression then lowering his gaze to his shoulders with the red patches á la Kirkland, the smooth tan skin that was mostly perfect, aside from a few light pink stretch marks he didn’t need any nagging to learn to love, his defined muscles on his arm, dimples on his knees, thighs squishy but tough enough to smash a watermelon, or his head… He didn’t know when he developed this killer crush on him but it clearly wasn’t just one moment, a sole occasion. He fell in love every time he looked at him, every time he was so freaking dumb Arthur couldn’t compare it to anything anymore, because fusing Monty Python with John Mulaney couldn’t make him laugh as much as he did.  
Alfred was trying to hold himself back and avoid making so much noise the neighbors would come over, so he ended up biting his lip and whining like a puppy. His eyes squeezed shut tight, groping Arthur’s shirt like he’d fall into an eternal pit if he let him go. He let his boyfriend have too much control this time and it made Arthur reach the conclusion he’s turned on like an indestructible toaster. They have been together for months but never did anything more than making out like teens at the back seat of their parent’s borrowed cars at a drive-in cinema. Arthur decided to take a step forward.

His hand slipped down and it made Alfred freeze and release the noise of a door on an abandoned mansion.

“Are you alright, love?” Arthur caught for a breath, being as fit as Wii-sports and watching soccer let him be.

“Yeah, sure dude!” the master or romance has spoken “The thing is just… I’m virgin as a bottle of olive oil. Or a 4chan user.”

It was Arthur’s time to freeze.

“Is this your first time?” his narrow eyes widened to a creepy extent.

“If you don’t count paying to see a digitally remastered version of Indiana Jones, this would be the first time I’m getting f-“

The 23 year old jumped up like, a 23 year old, for the first time in his life, probably and started running around in the house like he was bit by a wasp. Alfred sat up, and tried following his rapid movements with his eyes. He had no clue what was going on, maybe Arthur was just gathering his things to leave the virgin memelord, a quite reasonable decision on his part.  
He was wheezing as he carried fresh bedsheets into Alfred’s room and trying to clean up as fast as he could, dumping out numerous empty soda bottles, math formulas written on wrinkled, patchy pieces of papers, looking for something then disappointedly placing Alfred’s Batman shaped candle on his night table, and plugging his UFO night light in, defeated. Seemingly he tried to tidy the room, but then he started making a mess on Alfred’s CD holder, cussing loudly that he only owned the Star Wars soundtrack, Christian rock, country and techno.

“So?” He said seductively. By the time he returned to Alfred, he was all sweaty and his voice sounded asthmatic, his shoulders rapidly moving up and down, sometimes coughing to really set the mood.

“Excuse my language, Artie, but what the freaking heck has gotten into you?”

Arthur tried to start his Shakespearean monologue, but he started coughing his lungs out instead so he had to sit down next to the confused American.

“This... This is your first time! You idiot! It has to be spec-… -he stopped to clear his throat and intensify the tension in both Alfred and the reader. –It has to be special! Memorable!”

“Babe, don’t make such a big deal out of it!” Alfred blushed deeply.

“Certainly, Mr.I-want-to-get-fireworks-for-our-first-day-anniversary. Because you never make a big deal out of anything! I want you to remember this moment forever. I wanted to make it special. Because you… are special. To me, it is…”

The breaker of hearts, the master of obscure techniques, the fearless Arthur Kirkland avoided eye contact so obviously, Alfred would have smiled if he were on the same level of jerkiness as he was. Instead, he reached for his hand.

“Dude-… Uhh, Sweetheart. I remember every moment we’ve spent together. So don’t stress yourself over it. It would have been special without my Batman the Dark Knight candle. And you know why? Because to me, you are special.”

They both collectively stared at Arthur’s knees, and then slowly turned their heads towards one another, both embarrassed. Arthur nodded in understanding, then closed his eyes and leaned to his lover.

“Okay, but first, take a shower!” he found the subject of his passion holding him back by his forehead. “You are soaking wet!”

Arthur sat back seemingly heartbroken. But then he started laughing in a tone that impressed even Alfred, who had to realize once again, the hypocritical, rude, cold Englishman was clearly the one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you are disappointed. Happy Valentine's Day!  
> Like, comment and subscribe to pewdiepie, I was sponsored by Sprite Cranberry and a hoard of dead memes.  
> Follow @ask-extra-size-hero or at least check it out for an illustration for this one.


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